The Last Resort
by chibiness87
Summary: What to do when all else fails... GSR. This isn't what it sounds like. Trust me! I warn people when there is something to worry about. This fic has NO SUCH WARNING. T rated for suggested themes.


**The Last Resort **by** chibiness87  
**Rated T for **suggested **themes.  
**Genre:** Humour (**Trust me**!) -There is an undertone of angst.  
**Pairing:** GSR  
**Length:** 1140 words  
**Spoilers:** they're married... make of that what you will...  
**Disclaimer:** not mine.

**A/N:** Inspired by my RL right now, well, to an extent... Despite how this begins, **trust me on the genre**. Read it all the way through! Not beta'd.

* * *

Sara sat, looking at her gun sitting on the bed before her next to the letter she had written, and contemplated. Thoughts of whether it was worth the hassle, the clean up that would follow, and the paperwork (because there was always paperwork) were weighed against the feeling of peace and even a little revenge that would accompany such an act.

Her decision made, she picked up all of the necessary items, and made her way out of the house. (It was unfair, after all, to let Grissom see the mess that was sure to follow.) As she strode past the kitchen, she paused. Hank was still asleep, curled up by the cabinet next to the hob. Often one to walk around barefoot, Sara knew that the dog had found the warmest spot in the kitchen to take his nap for the afternoon. As if sensing her presence, Hank lifted his head slightly, a small wuffle emitting from his mouth.

Sara gave a small smile. Patting his flank a couple of times, she silently said goodbye to the canine, her goal still awaiting her. With one last look around the house, she left.

* * *

Grissom came home to find the house eerily silent. Hank was asleep in front of the hob, but the normal bustle of Sara was oddly absent. Looking quickly into all of the rooms of their house, he paused when he reached the bedroom; the white piece of paper on the bed standing out against the dark sheets.

Scanning the note, Grissom felt his heart almost stop at the words. Trying to work out if there was a hidden meaning in them, he re-read it, daring the words to change, but they remained the same.

_By the time you read this, it will be too late to stop me.  
__I tried everything I could. I made appointments with some  
__professional I looked up, but even they couldn't help.  
__I know I said I'd never do this, but sometimes taking this  
__route seems like the only option left.  
__You probably haven't checked yet, or maybe you have, but  
__my gun is gone. It's with me... maybe Brass by now.  
__After all, he'll probably have to file a report on this.  
__Sorry, I'm digressing.  
__I do hope you can forgive me for what I have done.  
__All my love,  
__Sara_

The letter floated to the floor as Grissom sank to the bed, his face falling into his hands. A state of disbelief over took him, and he sat that way for long minutes, only moving when the peal of the house phone demanded his attention.

Raising the receiver to his ear, he managed to croak his name.

"It's Brass." The detective's voice sounded strange to his ear. 

"Jim?"

"Yeah." A sigh came across the line. With resignation in his tone, he continued, "Apparently your wife decided a gun was the answer to the end of her problems."

Hearing the words from one of his eldest friends made the blood in his veins turn to ice. Raking a shaking hand through his hair, Grissom asked, "What... uh, what do you mean?" some small part of him hoping that, despite the letter, everything was a misunderstanding.

"Found her at the firing range."

"Oh God."

"Yeah. You did tell her that shooting the laptop wouldn't help matters, right?!"

Before he could reply, there was a scuffling sound on the other end of the line. The next voice to come across the line was that of his wife's. "I'm sorry, Gil. I'm really sorry. It just occurred to me what that note could be read as... I didn't mean to make you think that. I just wanted you to know I'd had it with the laptop, and was going to deal with it in my own way."

Grissom couldn't help the small choked sound that escaped at the sound of her husky voice in his ear. "Your laptop. You shot your laptop?!"

He could hear her give a small sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, Gil." He could almost see her shoulders shrug in resignation when she added, "It had it coming!"

The choked sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, escaped him again. "So you shot it?" Her voice held a hint of shame when she confirmed her course of action. "Ok..." Grissom paused, trying desperately to wrap his head around the events that had occurred. Focusing on the one that seemed to make the most and least amount of sense at the same time, he asked, "Why shoot it? It doesn't exactly solve anything. It's still broken."

"I know. But it doesn't half make me feel better." Sara gave a short burst of laughter, one he found himself echoing.

"You know there's going to be paperwork for this, right? What exactly am I meant to tell people about this incident when they see the report on damage of equipment? It wouldn't start, kept showing an error code, them crashed when trying to wipe the hard drive and so my wife took it out to the firing range to see if riddling it with bullets would help?!"

They were both laughing then, the image he presented of trying to explain the claim to Ecklie hitting them both at the same time. Sara calmed first, her voice holding sincere apology when she spoke again. "I am sorry, love."

Grissom sighed. "I know. But next time, try not shooting it, please? Or if you do, tell me that that's what you've done, not leave me some note that's too ambiguous for its own good."

"Yeah. About that. I'm really sorry. It never hit me until I was at the range what it could sound like. Look. I'll be home as soon as I fill in this report Brass is waving under my nose, ok? I'll pick something up for dinner."

"Ok. Hurry home. I love you, honey."

He could hear the smile in her voice when she said, "You too."

The scuffling sound came again, and then Brass was on the phone again. "I won't hold her too long."

"Thanks Jim." As he hung up the phone, he took in the decoration of their room. His eyes fell on the note where it had landed on the floor, and he picked it up, re-reading the words and taking in their meaning now he had the whole story.

Smiling, he thought about what had caused the problem and how he could go about trying to make things better. A glance at the date told him it was her birthday in just over a week, and his mind drifted to the new laptop, wrapped and hidden in his office, waiting for her to play with till her hearts content.

And maybe, just maybe, it would be spared her old laptops fate.

* * *

A/N: I am aware of the undertone in this fic, and I do not want people to think that I have made light of a serious and delicate matter. It is not my intention to offend anyone with my work.


End file.
